Veteran's Day
by Hawthorn Tree
Summary: A series of one-shots in honor of Veteran's Day on Monday. Beware, Alfred will be serious and smart! There could possibly be AlfredxOC in one of them.
1. Thank You

_It takes a lot of courage, your family left behind_

_Not knowing as you go to war, if you will live or die_

Sometimes Alfred wondered why people were willing to lay down their lives for him. Why was he so special? What made him worth the lives of millions?

_Many make this sacrifice, and they fight to keep us free_

_They're doing it for each of us; they're doing it for me_

Alfred liked to call himself the hero, but in truth there were people who would be more heroic than he could ever hope. The people who had believed in freedom and had paid the ultimate price for it. They had given their lives for their country, for him.

_Thank you Military, our country's proud of you_

_We are all so grateful, for everything you do_

Every Veterans Day he made a point of visiting the local veteran's cemetery of whatever town he happened to be in. To say he was grateful for what they did was an understatement. He was so proud, so incredibly proud.

_And with our flag a wavin', we'll proudly stand and say_

_Thank you Military, we honor you today_

He could stand the other nations insulting him, his economy, his politics, even his way of life. He would not, however, stand for someone insulting his Military. They were people who had been killed not only to protect him, but to protect the other nations as well and he would not be having them insult the people who had died for them, his citizens, his _children_.

_The Army and the Navy, the Air Force and Marines_

_And to our allied forces, and those behind the scenes_

_Let's not forget our Coast Guard, who protects our homeland too_

He had made a point of serving in each part of the Military at some point in time. His personal favorite was the Air Force, but in truth he would gladly agree to join any part if needed. They risked their lives for him, the least he could do was fight alongside them.

_America is grateful; we give our thanks to you_

He was so thankful, so proud.


	2. Ghosts and Fists

It was another hectic G8 meeting. Britain and France were fighting in a corner about one stupid thing or another. Russia was creeping out the Baltics across the table from America while Romano cussed out Spain and Italy annoyed Germany. To be honest though, Alfred couldn't care less. He just wanted it to be over so he could get on the first plane back to America and be alone.

Veteran's Day was in two days and it was the anniversary of some of his closest friend's deaths. Jonathan O'Reilly, Nathan Brooke, William Snow, Zachary Campbell, Markus Kimble, Katie Homes, Jamie Hill, Aaron Jones, Braxton Millard, Zoe Anderson, Daniel Jacobs, and Marissa Merrell. Twelve lives over 252 years. All of them had died on November 9th, two days before Veteran's Day.

Alfred was knocked out of his thoughts by Romano when the nation gave up on cussing at Spain and loudly said something vulgar and degrading about the United States Marines. The normally loud room instantly became silent as time seemed to stop and all eyes slowly turned towards America. The superpower himself was frozen, anger coursing through his veins as he slowly turned to look at the Italian.

Said Italian still had yet to realize just what affect his words had had, despite the sudden drop in temperature and how all the other nations were slowly edging away from him. America slowly got up and approached the Italian.

"Excuse me, Romano, I must have heard you incorrectly. _What did you just say?_" America snarled icily. In the background England grumbled something about "incorrect use of manners" before being shushed by France. Next to them Russia shifted, looking uncomfortable as memories of the Cold War came back to him.

"You heard me,_" Romano snapped back, entering several profanities at the end. Alfred's eyes narrowed as fury coursed through him and his vision practically went red. He had served with Aaron as a Marine during Vietnam, something he would never forget.

"Romano, I am only going to ask you once before I show just what the Marines taught me. _Take. It. Back._" The room was silent as all the other nations held their breath, willing Romano to just apologize so they could move on and forget this ever happened. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen.

"No."  
"What?"  
"You heard me, you American _." Romano smirked when he saw Alfred visibly get angry, "Why would I apologize for calling your stupid American Marine _ exactly what they are? _."

To say Alfred was angry would be an understatement. He was livid and seeing red. He had been a Marine. One of his best friends had died a Marine. Men and women died every day as Marines, and this _ had the gall to insult them?

By now Romano had stood up from in his chair in hopes of leveling things out with the superpower, but so far it wasn't working. Alfred was furious and very close to beating the other nation into the ground.

Germany saw Alfred clench his fists and briefly considered stepping in before dismissing the notion. He liked his face more than he like Roman by a long shot.

Alfred finally snapped when Romano said something about how easily Marines die. He swung at the shorter nation's face, completely intending to every bone in it. Just before it collided with the Italian's face however, Alfred felt a hand grab his wrist.

Thinking it was Germany and fully prepared to hurt the other nation as well, Alfred whipped his head to the side to find… Aaron. Aaron Jones, who had been dead for almost half a century, calmly held onto his nation's wrist with an iron grip Alfred remembered all too well looking exactly the same as he had during their days in Vietnam, right down to the look of "really?" on his face. His camouflage shirt was unbuttoned slightly at the top, exposing a white undershirt and metal dogtags. His helmet was unbuckled and cocked to the side with a playing card tucked into an elastic band that wrapped around the top, effectively hiding the hair Alfred knew was light brown. No doubt there was an orange tucked away somewhere in one of his pockets, something that Aaron had always seemed to have on him no matter where they were. He looked every bit the smirking eighteen year old from Florida he was and something in Alfred started to ache for the sweltering jungle they had met in.

By now Romano had gotten over his confusion as to why America had chosen staring into space with his arm suspended and attempted to escape. Unfortunately, that's what snapped Alfred's attention back to him, despite his wrist still being detained by the soldier only he could see.

"Don't," he heard Aaron say, "He isn't worth it. Hittin' him will only be sinking to his level. That made Alfred pause again and he allowed Romano to scurry away. In their time in Vietnam, Alfred had learned that Aaron was usually right, no matter what he was talking about.

Once Romano felt he was at a safe distance, he said the stupidest thing one could after escaping a situation like that.  
"Ha! He's weak, just like his stupid _ Army!"

Instantly Aaron was gone, replaced by Marissa, who Alfred had met in Iraq. The hyper girl smirked and gave him a thumbs up, a clear signal that the proud nineteen year old member of the United States Army wanted Alfred to avenge her and her comrade's honor against the big mouthed Italian. That was all Alfred needed. He and Aaron may have had gotten out of a lot of tight situations and had some good laughs, specifically over their shared last names, but that had been too far. Besides, Alfred couldn't disobey a lady, even one who'd been killed almost five years ago.


	3. Friends

"_Why the heck em I fightin' fer them darned British again?"  
"Because you're American?"  
"Nah, I'm Irish. Yer American though."  
"Yes…"  
"So ya admit ya ain't a Brit?"  
"What? I never said that."  
"Then why the heck em I helpin' ya?"_

It was Jonathan O'Reilly who had really got Alfred thinking about his place with Britain, much to the empire's dismay. They had fought together in the French and Indian War and in a way Jonathan had been Alfred's first friend. Not that Jonathan ever would have openly admitted to being friends with Alfred, who he called a British want-to-be. It was Jonathan who taught Alfred how to use a musket, despite Alfred being "painfully naive". Jonathan was also the first person Alfred ever kissed, an action that had earned him a fist to the gut and a firm lecture.  
When he had died, Alfred had been crushed and Arthur had been quick to mock his pain. Jonathan had been snarky, sarcastic, and temperamental, but Alfred had loved it.

"_What are you fighting for?"  
"I dunno, myself I guess."  
"Then you will lose."_

Those were the words that had convinced Alfred to truly fight against Britain. All it had taken was Nathan Brooke, a smart talking boy from wealthy Virginia family. He had hated the British to an extent that was almost scary. They had quickly become friends, Alfred being drawn to Nathan's sass while Nathan had wanted to help the young country "get off [his] arse and onto [his] feet".  
Nathan had been killed by Arthur himself only months before Alfred had gained independence, something he had wanted Nathan to see more than anything. He hadn't been there though, and that had made it all the more important.

"_You know, the only thing worse than a Brit is a Canadian."  
"I'm closely related to both."  
"I know."_

William Snow was the one who taught Alfred how to properly use his fists and one of the very few people to see Alfred in his absolute worst. It had been William who'd held Alfred as his capital burned, offering comfort to the best of his ability. A half Cherokee from Georgia, William had know how to hold a grudge.  
Mattie had been the one to shoot him, creating a rift between the two brothers that had taken decades to repair.

"_Do you think they enjoy ripping me apart?"  
"Of course not, they just want to be free."  
"But they are free!"  
"Isn't that what Britain said when you rebelled against him?"_

Zachary Campbell had been quite and insightful to a point that had made Alfred want to scream. His soft voice and never ending logic hadn't been appreciated by many, especially their commanding officers during the Civil War. President Abraham Lincoln had enjoyed it though, something Alfred still couldn't understand.  
His philosophical ways hadn't been tolerated in the slightest by the Confederate soldiers who had captured them. They had shot him without a second thought.

"_Hi, I'm Alfred!"  
"I don't care who the heck you are, so long as you can shoot that there gun!"_

Alfred had met Markus Kimble in the trenches of World War One surrounded by heavy gunfire and rain. Alfred had wandered into no-man's land and almost been shot when Markus had appeared out of nowhere and dragged Alfred back by his collar. He'd then proceeded to through Alfred into a trench and shove a gun into his hands. Markus had been tall, broad shouldered, dark haired, and very serious; everything Alfred wasn't.  
One day, Markus had been sent into no-man's land and he hadn't returned. Alfred had found his body the next day and carried it back so it could be sent home. When peace had come, it was Markus who Alfred thought about.

"_So you're a girl?"  
"Obviously. And you're America?"  
"Um, yeah, last time I checked at least."  
"Your humor sucks, now get in the plane. We've got places to fly, soldiers to shoot, and a war to win."  
"How can you be so certain that we will win?"  
"Simple. Scissors beat paper."_

That had been his first real conversation with Katie Holmes from Salt Lake City, Utah. They had met during the Second World War not long after he had joined the war. She had disguised herself as her brother and joined the Air Force in his place after his wife had gotten pregnant and he had been unwilling to leave.  
That was the type of woman Katie had been. Strong, independent, smart, and sarcastic. A true patriot in his eyes. When he had first found out she was a girl, in had been complete on accident and she had come very close to shooting him. After that they had become friends and he eventually even came to love her as more than a friend. She had been the first girl to kiss him, and he had been all too happy to kiss her back. Several times. Then she had been shot by Russia on "accident" and he had felt as if his heart had been ripped out.

"_So you're a spy?"  
"Oh no, I'm not just _a_ spy, I am _the_ spy."_

Jamie Hill had been one of the few "soldiers" during the Cold War. He had know Alfred at his worst, when he was cold and ruthless, willing to hurt anyone who got in his way. Jamie had been similar and yet different in so many ways. He wasn't afraid to hurt people the government deemed bad, but that didn't stop him from being the biggest bleeding heart Alfred had ever met.  
Jamie was the second of Alfred's friends to be "accidently" killed by Ivan, making Alfred hate him even more.

"_What is your problem with Russians?"  
"I hate them. They've killed two people I love, that's not something I can forgive easily. Besides, we're at "war" with them, aren't we?"  
"Jones, hate doesn't have much place here. We are in a real war, not some stalemate verbal battle and I have to depend on you to watch my back."_

Alfred had met Braxton Millard during the Korean War. Braxton had been the one to help Alfred heal. Sure he had still hated Russia, but he was able to keep those feelings out of his personal life. Braxton hadn't been the smartest guy in the room, but he had his moments of pure wisdom that left Alfred astounded. Even today Braxton's sayings guided him through hard times.  
Braxton had died of an infection caused by a bullet wound that refused to almost a year before America pulled out of the war.

"_Hi, I'm Aaron F. Jones."  
"Hi, I'm Alfred F. Jones."  
"Sweet. This is gonna drive our sergeant crazy."_

Aaron had been the first person to make Alfred laugh since Katie. They had actually shared many laughs, something that was rare in the steaming jungles of Vietnam. They had started as Marines and somehow ended up with the Army long after the Marines had pulled out. Aaron had always been right about everything, no matter what it was. "Don't eat that", "Those are the wrong bullets", "She's not actually into you, she just wants your money", and "You're gonna regret hopping into that water, Jonesy" filled his days with Aaron.  
Aaron had been made it perfectly clear from the beginning that he would take a bullet for Alfred and in the end, he did. Right through his heart.

"_Okay, how much coffee did you have this morning?"  
"None, I don't drink coffee!"  
"I think I know why!"  
"What's that supposed to mean?"_

Marissa Merrell had been the most hyper girl Alfred had ever met. She had always been bouncing from one thing to the next with a grin on her face, no matter the situation. The only times he had ever seen her serious was when someone they knew died. Iraq had been tough and Marissa had hated the desert, but she had always smiled. In the immortal words of their commanding officer, "That woman is like a nine year old on a sugar rush!".  
Marissa had been caught in an explosion, accidently stepping on a landmine while laughing a joke Alfred had cracked. Alfred himself had been thrown away and had woken up in a hospital a week later. The guilt had wracked him for weeks on end, until he was given a note from Marissa, one telling him to "stop moping and move on with his life" and that "it's wasn't your fault". What really got him up again though, was when he realized that she had died smiling.

"_You're a woman."  
"No, really? I thought I was a man!"  
"You're a black woman in the Army."  
"Yes, and proud of it. Now shut up before I punch the living daylights out of you."_

Zoe Anderson had been sassy and very proud of who she was. Tall, slender, and mocha skinned, she hadn't been afraid to speak her mind no matter the cost. They had served together in Afghanistan, an experience that Alfred would never forget. Zoe was one of the few people that could make even Japan flustered, and the first friend that Alfred brought to a World Meeting. He would never do that again. She had flirted with Ludwig, Kiku, Gilbert, Arthur, Ivan, Matthew, Antonio, Lovino, Feliciano, Yao, even Francois. Gilbert and Arthur still had yet to get over her.  
When Zoe had been killed, it had been every bit the epic death she had described to Alfred. It had hurt, seeing her laying limb and bloodied on the ground, still half alive. Her last words had been "Don't cry you idiot, I'll see you eventually" and then she was gone.

"_So what got you involved with the National Guard?"  
"I've served in every other part of the Military, it's about time I got to this."  
"Huh… And how old are you?"_

Daniel Jacobs had been a freshman in college as well as a member of the National Guard, and had convinced Alfred to actually go to college, something the nation had never really bothered with. They had been roommates, buddies, and brothers. Heck, Daniel had even convinced Alfred to give up drinking, and actually believe in God again.  
He missed Daniel. A training operation had gone wrong and he had fallen from a helicopter into the Pacific Ocean. Returning to an empty apartment without Daniel had been hard and Alfred had almost dropped out then and there. But he hadn't, knowing Danny would probably come back from the dead just to kick his butt and yell at him.

After six months of living alone, McKenna Eyring waltzed into Alfred's apartment with a duffel bag over her shoulder and an all knowing air of confidence around her. Twenty-two years old and fresh out of the Air Force, Kenna had become Alfred's new roommate. She applied for the Police Academy and somehow convinced Alfred to join her. She was the thirteenth and most likely not the last. Not that Alfred minded.

He just had to be careful about those two days before Veteran's Day.

**Sorry this chapter was so stinking long and didn't really have anything to do with Veteran's Day, but the next one will, I promise! I really love Katie, and not that I need any more on my plate, but I'm actually thinking about doing a story on her and Alfred. William is an OC from my one-shot "Washington Burning".**

**For those of you who (like me) hate slash of any type, I'm sorry about the kiss, but in my mind antebellum (pre Civil War) Alfred was really naive. Arthur doesn't seem to be the type to give Alfred a sex education, so that was left to poor Jonathan.**

**Please review, I really love your feedback!**

**I've also figured out how to get lots of reviews. Have a character diss the military and sick Alfred on him!**


End file.
